


Where There's Smoke

by Verlaine



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Double Drabble, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-10
Updated: 2011-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-16 20:50:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verlaine/pseuds/Verlaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A series of linked drabbles, written for Solosundance, who asked for Ezra/Vin and smoke</p>
    </blockquote>





	Where There's Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> A series of linked drabbles, written for Solosundance, who asked for Ezra/Vin and smoke

"I can still smell him on you." Ezra nuzzled into the brown curls under his cheek. "Red-eye whiskey and cheap cigars." His voice dropped to a growl.

Vin laughed, wriggling into a more comfortable position. "Ol' dog likes to mark his territory."

"Indeed," Ezra said dryly, looking down at the finger-shaped bruises on his biceps. "He's not the only one."

"Least I can wash. You'll need to keep your shirt on. Wouldn't want Buck gettin' any ideas."

"Heaven forefend."

"Think he does it a'purpose?"

"Buck?"

"Chris. Lettin' you know he's first."

Ezra shrugged. "Perhaps. But he also knows I'm last."

 

**

 

"Ez don't much like getting fucked," Vin murmured, settling his naked weight against Larabee and sliding an arm around his waist.

Chris nodded. It hadn't been hard to miss: despite their efforts to be gentle, Ezra had been tense and skittish, fingers twisted white-knuckled into the sheets. He'd bolted from Chris's room boots in hand and shirt undone. Fucking him had been as enjoyable as mounting a spooked horse.

"Might want to change things 'round next time," Vin went on. "Give him a chance to see what it's like from the other side."

"Ain't been rode in a long time." Chris's tone said it would be a damn sight longer yet.

"Y'wouldn't handle a green colt with a quirt and spurs. No need to use 'em on Ezra."

"Green?"

"Aw hell, Chris, you ain't lettin' him blow smoke at you too?" Vin sat up, chuckling. "Thought for sure you'd've figured out he's mostly makin' it up as he goes along."

"Ezra?" Chris said doubtfully. If there was ever a man who looked like he'd been born experienced, it was Standish.

Still, Vin's instincts were usually on the mark.

Vin swung out of bed. "I'll fetch him back. Without a lariat."

 

**

 

In their different ways, Vin and Ezra were both masters of camouflage. For Vin it was grey and brown clothing and movements as silent and supple as a sidewinder; for Ezra it was a flowery mix of language and dress and manners that implied he was a gentleman amusing himself playing a lawman.

What pleased Chris almost more than having them in his bed was watching them let down their guard out at his homestead. While Vin had dropped his barriers practically the moment he set eyes on Chris, it had taken Ezra months to come to trust them enough to do more than remove his cravat. Seeing Ezra dive naked into the creek on a summer afternoon or Vin lounging on the porch drinking coffee, union suit shrugged down to his waist, made Chris reflect on just how lucky he was to be granted a second chance at life.

Chris would sit and smoke, enjoying the view.

"An emir surveying his harem," Ezra commented.

"Stallion guarding the herd," Vin replied.

Chris blew smoke rings with a predatory smile.

None of them spoke of those nights he huddled in their arms, haunted by memories of a darker, more acrid smoke.


End file.
